Are You Gay Yet?
by newxyorkxloser
Summary: CarlyxSam One shot! Because that's all I have the attention span to write. "Carly Shay, miss rolling in experience, you've never kissed a girl?" She stared at you, amazed, and honestly, you couldn't tell if she was kidding or if she was honestly stupefie


. I know, I know, I've got my other story that I need to update.. -writer's block and I broke my hand again-

--

Her touch is soft and gentle, shaking just the slightest, as though she's scared anything more will break you. Her hair's raining down on you, covering your shoulders and your neck and you're not sure if you want to pull her closer or push her away. She's hovering over you and she's looking down at you and you know that she cares way more than she's supposed to.

And even though she's the one with purple bruises lacing up her arms and there's seventeen stitches in her side and they had to do surgery to fix up her wrist properly, she's laying on you, her shaking arms held tight around you. And while she's whispering that she won't let anybody hurt you, you can see the lines of dried blood under her t-shirt.

"S..Sam.. really.. it's not that important.." You mumble, stumbling over your words while the guilt sets in but you still hold onto her because you're scared and hurt and that stupid boy had to go and tell you that he didn't want to be with you if you weren't going to have sex with him and you knew that you loved him and he loved you and you wouldn't let him go away so you let him tug off your shorts and force himself inside you.

Then he went away anyway.

She looks at you for a moment, and you don't know if it would be harder to look away or too keep looking back up at her. She's mad; not mad like she always gets at Freddie whenever he.. well, whenever he has enough nerve to even be in the same room as her. Mad like the way she is right now, biting her lip so hard you think that it's bleeding and her knuckles are white from being clenched so hard and you can tell that the only thing going through her head is, "Kill. Kill kill kill." And it's actually scary, because you've really never seen Sam like this before.

"That's what you said when that one guy turned you down, and then you cried for three weeks straight." She said matter-of-factly, and when you tried to open your mouth to protest, and say that it really, honestly wasn't that big of a deal, she just pressed her fingers against your lips to keep you quiet. And then she just stared at you, wondering what exactly to make of this. What to make of you and the way that you always hold onto her for just a bit too long and how you're always with her and how you've dumped guys just for saying something bad about her, and she's thinking the exact same thing about herself. She's thinking about how much better it would be if you would just stop trying to be with all of these stupid people just because they're hot and they've got a good smile and they're more popular than you are and they promised to buy you dinner.

"S..Sam.. s..stop." You stammer, trying to look away from her, but she holds your head in place, her touch firm but gentle, and just like every other time, she holds on just a bit too long, and you can feel your breath catching in your throat and you don't know why she's always had this effect on you before. And for a moment, you wonder why you keep trying to convince yourself you don't want to be with her with all of these stupid assholes.

"Why do you keep doing this to yourself?" She's being serious. You've hardly ever seen her be like this, and even when you have it's only lasted for about a minute, and it's scaring you the way she's looking at you. She never, ever gets like this. This isn't like her and this isn't like you and you tell her everything so why can't you tell her everything that's going through your head right now? Why can't you just tell her why you think that you've gone out with so many people who just hurt you and why you mess around with all of these guys when honestly you don't even like boys.

But no, you have to play dumb. "Doing what to myself?" You ask, biting at your lip and hoping, even though you know that she can see right through even the best of your lies, that she doesn't see through this. Doing what to yourself. Everybody around you can see it, and you know it. Even if they don't know who it's over, they know that you're trying to forget somebody. You want to forget somebody because they broke your heart or you can't have them or you're too scared to even try.

She looks at you for another moment or two, and you look right back at her, wondering if maybe your eyes alone can tell her that you really do want her to just forget about it because it doesn't really matter to you all that much anyway. Even though it actually does, but you don't want to talk about this. You want the normal Sam who relates everything back to food and enjoys beating Freddie.

And then she grins at you and kisses your cheek and pushes herself off of you, leaving you laying on the couch with your hands still on either side of your head where she'd pinned them, feeling your cheeks burning and your heart beating out of your chest and your wrists still tingling where she'd held them. "Can we get ham?"

When you don't say anything she turns back towards you and looks down at you, and you know that she knows. She knows, she knows, she knows.

You stare back up at her, and you're thinking about how she cares too much about you and she's always there and she drops everything for the smallest things for you and you're in denial but you both know what the other's thinking.

Or maybe you're being too paranoid, because things like that only ever happen in stupid cheesy love stories that you read halfway through and then set on fire because they're so unrealistic.

Actually, honestly, you do that because you start wishing it were you and Sam. Which is weird, right? You should be thinking about some gorgeous surfer dude or some hottie emo kid.

"Please?"

--

It's Friday night and it's been three days since you told Sam about what happened with Chad and you have a pint of icecream in your hand and it's one in the morning and she's resting her head in your lap, a pile of DVDs sitting on the table in front of the both of you (and you've already watched every single one of them) She's flipping through channels, the remote awkwardly dangling from her left hand, her right one still sporting a very trendy, very attractive brace.

You're playing with her hair and the only light in the room's the dull glow from the television. Your fingers twist lazily around strands of her golden blonde hair and she yawns, drawing circles on your arm with her index finger, sticking out of her brace. "Jeez. Why did we eat so much sugar again..?" She asks you, finally stopping on the national geographic channel, which has some show about druggies getting thrown in jail on.

"Hey. Carly?" She asked, yawning again, her eyes glassy and unfocused, and oh my god she was so cute when she was tired like this. You're looking down at her and you're just praying that it's dark enough that she can't see you blushing, even though you know she can because you can see her pink sunburn just fine.

You glanced down at her for a moment and grunted softly, which was you equivalent of "Yeah?" because you were too tired to say anything else. Only you weren't tired--you couldn't be more wide awake and hyper-aware of yourself and everything around you and exactly where Sam's head was touching you and vaguely you wonder if you smell okay.

"So. Have you ever kissed a girl before?" The question was totally random, and asked in the same lazy Sam tone that implied that it wasn't really a big deal at all, which hinted that she probably had. For a moment, you couldn't help but wonder if she'd done more than that (or if she wanted to..) but then you remembered that she was probably totally straight, asking a random question to stop herself from dying of boredom.

You looked down at her for another moment, and thought about it for a moment, because you had a tendency to forget that type of thing. The things that were supposed to be big or important or something, and normally would be, and actually were, but you still somehow managed to completely forget about them when you thought about the subject. Which is a long and slightly rambling way of saying that you forgot stuff, and that you shouldn't be trusted to remember things like dates and phone numbers.

"Uhmm.." And you sat there and thought. And thought, and thought, and daydreamed a little, and thought some more. "I don't think I have." You admitted sheepishly. Then again, maybe that was a good thing. You were supposed to be straight, weren't you? Yes, you were. So why would you have kissed a girl? It's totally normal and everything, just you would never want to because you were supposedly straight. Supposedly. To everybody else in the world.

The look that she gave you was absolutely priceless. She actually snapped out of her dull, lazy, half asleep state and made an attempt to get up. "Carly Shay, miss rolling in experience, you've never kissed a girl?" She stared at you, amazed, and honestly, you couldn't tell if she was kidding or if she was honestly stupefied.

You looked back down at her, and she looked right back up at you. And then, suddenly, she pushed herself up and she was sitting beside you, somehow her eyes still unblinkingly glued to you. "W..well.. yeah I mean.. why would I..? I'm straight and all.." You stammered, trying to look away, but her gaze still followed you.

"How do you know if you've never even tried?" She asked simply, yawning for a third time as she tugged at her bangs.

"U..uhm.." You didn't know what to say to that. You'd lost your ability to form any type of coherent sentence so you just sat there blushing and staring at her with all the most unlikely, amazing situations and possible outcomes flying through your mind, so fast that they would come and within a second you'd be done, onto the next one.

"Well.. I mean.. if you want to, I'm willing." She said, turning her attention back to the t.v., hand reaching for the can of Monster on the table next to the stack of DVDs. You sit there and stare at her for a few moments, thinking back to Tuesday night and her hovering over you and swearing that she won't let anybody ever hurt you because you can't get over just what that simple sentence did to you, and the way she'd asked why you kept doing "this" to yourself as though she knew everything. And you're thinking how close she'd held you and how every night that she's not laying next to you you have to hug your extra pillow and pretend that it's her before you can go to sleep.

You're thinking, _Oh, hell, it's not a very big deal to her anyway._ _And she'll probably forget it by tomorrow and oh my god I want her._

And then finally you're acting. You turn towards her and pull her towards you by the collar of her shirt (which, actually, come to think of it, looks like the one that mysteriously disappeared a couple of weeks ago) and before you even finish, her lips are on yours, soft and gentle and sweet and almost a little bit scared, her hands nervously finding their way to your neck when she realizes that you don't want some cheap, stupid peck, which would've absolutely defeated the purpose. And you're kissing her back and oh, god it's amazing how much better this is than kissing guys.

You bite at her lip softly, and her tongue's in your mouth and you're pushing her down underneath you, her hands pinned above her head and you can't help but wonder what she must be thinking about you right now. Are you a liar or just really so comfortable with you sexuality that it doesn't matter, because it's just a little harmless fun?

You're pushing you tongue against hers and one of her hands somehow managed to get free from yours and it's holding the back of your hand, fingers entwined in your hair, and the whole thing's so hot that you can't help but grind your hips against hers. After all, it's just a little harmless fun.

Oh god, wait. You didn't realize you were going that hard and fuck, that feels so good, but you need to keep up the appearance of the straight girl that you're supposed to be, even if she _is_ acting like she likes this as much as you do. But maybe that's just because it doesn't really mean a thing.

You're coming back to yourself now, and you're realizing that she can't possibly think that you're just faking this, and you pull yourself away from her lips for a moment and grin.

"So, miss Shay, are you still straight?" She asks, grinning up at you and you realize that she is, by no means, straight, and now it's time for you to have your way with Sam.

"Hm.. I don't know.. I think I need some more help deciding." You're trying your best to make her want to just grab you and fuck you right there, and by the way she stares are you before she pulls your head back down and makes the smallest (but obviously involuntary) thrust with her hips, you can tell it worked.

You're half an hour into shoving your tongue behind Sam's teeth when you realize,_ Holy shit, I'm making out with Sam._ You're making out with her. You're strewn across your couch, laying on top of her, making out with her. It's two in the morning now and holy fucking shit, you can't believe how easy that was. There wasn't any, "I'm never talking to you again!" no, "Uhm, why did you just kiss me?" and no, "Whoa. You're gay?"

And it wasn't even your idea.

"How about now..?" She mumbled, her other hand finally free, once yours had found much more interesting places to be. She pulled herself further up, so that she wasn't completely parallel to the ground, and looked at you, her expression nearly unreadable.

You looked at her and grinned, then said, "Gee, I totally loved that. That means I'm straight, right?"

--

You're in the school library with her now. It's Thursday, it's raining, and it's the middle of 3rd period. You're curled up with her on one of the couches that they've got in there, and her head's in your lap, which you're starting to notice that she always does. She's holding your hand and playing lazily with your fingers, her other arm laying across her partly bare stomach, fingertips just barely touching your bare thigh, and you mentally thank yourself for wearing a skirt today despite the rain.

"Hey.. have you seen Freddie? I haven't seen him around lately."

She visibly pales at this question, and replies quickly, "Uhm.. I don't know. I haven't seen him either. Maybe his mom freaked out because he forgot to sign her stupid shower paper..or.. something.." She trails off and you can just imagine Freddie trapped in a closet somewhere in the basement, a rat nestled into his hair.

For once, you actually don't feel sorry for him, because he actually had the nerve to leave you flowers in your locker yesterday. 8 days after you and Chad broke up. God, how shallow does that boy think you are, anyway? It's not like you really cared at all anymore about what'd happened, but he could at least to respect the fact that you were supposed to be heartbroken and trying to figure out life without a boy.

And that had been going _very _well, you decided, with a glance down at Sam.

"What're you looking at?" She asked, grinning at you and pulling your head down as she kissed your lips quickly. Yes, it was a peck, which, yes, you had said initially was completely useless, but you didn't really mind. So much so, in fact, that you hadn't even complained about all the people that could've looked over from the other side of the library and seen you, because, frankly, you didn't care. If they were going to see you kissing somebody, at least it was a hottie. And, honestly, you loved the way your stomach tingled like that whenever she even brushed against you.

You hadn't really even talked about what exactly you were--all you knew was that she loved to drag you into bathrooms to "help fix her hair" between periods or skip gym class and pin you up against a wall. You couldn't exactly say that you were just friends anymore, because of the sheer frequency of these make out sessions and random pecks, but nobody'd ever said that you were going out with her either.

She grinned at you and you grinned back, and then suddenly she got up, pulling you up with her, and then said something about smoothies, before dragging you off to the cafeteria, holding onto your pinky finger with hers.

--

's enough. XD I had an idea for another scene, but this is getting a bit long, and it's 3 in the morning. D: I'll just write the scene as a new story.. It'd work pretty well.

It'll be unoriginal, but oh well! Uhm.. I hope you liked it! :3 The first 3 paragraphs, I wrote about a week ago, and that I got all, "AHHH I HAVE NO IMAGINATION I CANT WRITE ANYTHING SO LAZY OMG" until today. XD Hence the whole, "omgahhh writer's block!" thing XD And yes, I broke my hand again. . It hurtsss!

Well.. Review? :3 Good night!


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